The Kiss
by Cyath
Summary: A stormy evening complicates Misato Katsuragi and Shinji Ikari's relationship in interesting ways.


The Kiss

It was a late night.

The rain beat a steady rhythm on the window panes, lighting flashed jaggedly behind, and the wind howled and thunder roared.

Shinji Ikari couldn't sleep. He was in the kitchen, looking in the fridge.

"Let's see..." he mumbled to himself. "Milk. Now, where is the milk..." He searched in vain for five minutes until he found the lone carton, looking forlorn indeed among the mass of beer cans that took up the rest of the storage space. Mumbling something about his guardian's drinking habits, he poured some and then put it in the microwave.

After all, wasn't one supposed to take hot milk or when you couldn't sleep...or something like that. It was late - he couldn't think clearly. Shinji suppressed a yawn and waited for his milk.

Lightning, again.

She couldn't sleep.

The rain beat a steady rhythm on the window panes, lighting flashed jaggedly behind, and the wind howled and thunder roared.

She couldn't sleep. She had ended up staring at the ceiling for hours after midnight, or so it seemed. Insomnia, like when she was studying for exams during college.

Images of Kaji flashed back at that memory. Smiling. Laughing. Frowning. Kissing her. She wondered if he was dead.

You were supposed to feel sad when someone was dead; wasn't that how she felt now? Turning to her to feel the dampness or her pillow, cool and welcome against her cheek. She thought so.

Then why did she keep on seeing him? "If I meet you once more, I will say what I could not eight years ago." You never could tell with Kaji. She had never forgiven him that time he failed to show up at her apartment before graduating...but he had made it up the night after.

If he was dead, why did she keep on remembering him? If he wasn't, why did she feel sad?

And lighting cracked once again.

Shinji decided that the milk tasted good. He eyed the cup listlessly. It was time to go back to sleep.

But he didn't want to go back to sleep. He yawned and rubbed his eyes a bit - well, his body wanted him to.

Sleep. Yes.

She didn't want to sleep. But she had to, didn't she? Heavy eyes and being tired meant that she needed to sleep. Must sleep.

Outside, the wind howled anew and the rain lashed frantically at the window. Like it wanted to get in.

But she couldn't. "Kaji-kun..." she mouthed to the ceiling. She wanted Pen-Pen, but realized belatedly that she had left him at Hikari's. No one else in the house.

Why was she thinking like this? She...she wanted to sleep. That was it.

Lightning flared, a brilliant fiery white streak. Then silence but for the steady fall of rain.

So she was extremely surprised when she went into the kitchen to see Shinji staring fixedly at a glass of milk. He didn't notice her and neither did she him until she flipped the switch, highlighting what had seemed to be a darker shadow into simple relief.

He started as well, turning in his chair to face her, and even from her position near her bedroom door she could see the tiredness in his eyes, the slightly haggard look and strain from too little sleep. Then concern. The eyes widened to show surprise...then back to concern. For a moment Kaji's face flashed before her again - the day her mother had died he had looked the same.

Why did Asuka hate him, anyway? He was good-looking enough; weak-willed, but then he was *her* Shinji-kun, not anyone else's. Smiling weakly, she waved away his apology at the late hour he was up and instead moved to sit by him.

She must look a sight, she mused to herself; hair wet from her shower that she had decided to take, slighty bleary from the crying she had done after...after the phone call today. That and the afternoon drinking binge which had been a painfully desperate and futile last-ditch effort to stave off the pain. But enough for now.

A gentle patter of raindrops filled the room, and she found her eyes straying to the window; the soft sound of the falling water lulling her almost into a sense of complacency. Out of the corner of the eye she saw Shinji down the last of his milk and she felt the hint of a smile tug at her - then another thunderbolt which brought her back to reality.

The phone rang.

It kept coming back to that; didn't it. The phone ringing with what he knew was Kaji-san's last message to her. He hid the other things for now - inability to pilot, his father's betrayal, Touji. Rei. Asuka. Because in his mind it was still ringing. Her cry of despair, almost silent but all too painfully genuine to him, so much like his own during those long, sleepless self-hating nights.

And he had watched her cry silently, not knowing, not doing anything at all.

He raised the glass to his lips slowly, still keeping half a lidded eye on Misato as she pottered around the kitchen, looking for - even at this time of the night - beer. She had found a half drunk can placed way back at that part of the fridge where the leftovers always seem to collect and she came back to the table with it pressed to her mouth as well. They eyed each other with a familiar wariness and drank.

Shinji almost laughed at the homely docility of it all - a guardian and her ward, both unable to sleep and up together on a stormy night. It was cozy, in its own way; then, looking at Misato, her features thrown into sharp relief by a stray flash of lightning, it dawned upon him that he didn't mind it and that it might very well be so - a kind of confortable, easy homey atmosphere despite the winds raging outside. If it only weren't for the circumstances that kept both of them up...it could be even pleasant.

It was far too late for her to let out her customary after-drinking shout, but she managed a tired rendition of it nonetheless (causing Shinji to wince slightly) as he watched her. He was suddenly, to his chagrin, immediately aware of how her sweat-stained nightshirt stuck to her to the curves of her body, accentuating things he'd rather not see and bringing to his attention others which he wasn't quite entirely comfortable with. A faint memory of Asuka's kiss returned, mixed with the shock of yet another peal of thunder and the sight of his guardian continuing to drink, oblivious to his stare.

Misato-san, his mind whispered...and suddenly he found himself wanting to hug her, to talk to her and kiss and cry in her arms at the fear - the mindless howling fear but no he'd hurt her but he cared, he cared so much and he was sure she did but no he couldn't be sure and she was so beautiful he wanted to -

"Misato-san..."

He was almost silenced by the lightning, but he spoke - she heard, and when she turned around she could see his lips move in the shadow outline the brief flash of whiteness provided. Hair a disarrayed jet-black against the pale face, eyes haunted; and her name, spoken like a plea for help. She swallowed once, then again as she looked back at him.

She knew, of course. The way he sometimes looked at her as teenage boys would, not in the brash way Touji and Kensuke did (nice boys anyway, if a bit scatterbrained, her mind absently remarked) but with his own brand of childish awkwardness that was so...cute, for lack of a better word. The way Asuka looked at him with scorn and how he looked back with open naivete.

Another flash, this one brighter than normal, and then - she had to step back in surprise - his eyes changed. Kaji's eyes, same as when she told him her mother died; free of the carefree mask he seemed always to wear. Except for Shinji they always looked this way, always the same shattered innocence. Then the light went and he was her Shinji-kun again, looking forlornly at his empty glass.

On impulse she moved over to him to grasp his hand, to something - to tell him it was all right, that it would go away, but as he looked at at her she found the words sticking in her throat. All she managed was to slide her hand softly across his own thin one and then reach out tenderly for his hair - halfway she paused, not knowing why but did so anyway - parting it and then slowly smoothing it back, the wetness from his own sweat sticking to her hand.

Shinji Ikari - her ward, her friend, the person who lived with her - lightning again, flashing past to illumine the damp shine in his eyes - cared for her, stared back with something approaching horror in his

eyes.

He shivered as she drew her hand across his and almost flinched when she looked at him - her gaze seemed more intense now, filled with a sense of purpose; but maybe that was just the harsh cast of the light behind her that was gone in an instant.

Then she reached for his head and her features blurred, melted, the dark wavy bangs framing her face transforming themselves into the straight ordered ones of his mother - then they were gone and there was only Misato-san's face again, the change so sudden he nearly inhaled in shock. "Misato-san..." he whispered again and this time he was sure she didn't hear him.

Thunder roared, so loud that they both jumped involuntarily, he inadvertently spilling his glass and she turning towards the window in shock. He let out a hesitant laugh a second later and she joined him, the sound of their voices seeming to keep the foreboding atmosphere of the night at bay.

"Go to sleep, Shinji-kun." And suddenly her voice was a mother's one, gently reprimanding and yet soothing at the same time. But he couldn't. Open-mouthed, he waited till she came to his side and then leant towards him, eyes searching. It continued for a while, a few peaceful seconds, until she placed her hand on his.

Lightning. More than enough for Misato to see Shinji pull his hand away with a sound between a sob and sigh, loud so that he didn't hear him whisper his mother's name.

Not Kaji. Most definitely not Kaji, her wild, unrestrained lover. But she cared for him nonetheless; how she could not say. So as she crossed the room to his retreating back, she really didn't know what to do, except that something in her made her reach out her hand.

That was the moment that the storm decided to make it's presence known one final time, shrieking out in a boom that sent a startled Shinji and Misato down onto the floor courtesy of a rumpled carpet.

Maybe it was chance that caused the fall to be just so, fate that directed the piece of cloth to slip sideways, destiny that dictated the young boy's startled grasp for his guardian's sleeve as a handhold - or maybe it was something else, a need, or a kind of desire, perhaps, unspoken but prompting action.

Whatever the case, Misato landed on Shinji, rolled around on the floor a little, then finally settled on him, mouth pressed to his as both opened in shock.

And things went on from there.

The first thing he was aware of was the soft pressure of her above him, the fleeting touch of her slightly wet lips, then shame, realizing suddenly how good it felt to be so close to Misato-san...then she was moving away and before he knew it one hand was reaching out for her instinctively.

So small, and yet, even as she drew away she saw his eyes pleading with her, no, she decided a second later...asking her. But before she could answer in any way another crash boomed and she was sent hurtling, startled, into his arms.

His blush was hidden thankfully by the night's shadows, but the warmth from her body couldn't be...was instead wonderfully calming. He shifted his grip gently as her weight bore down on him and tried not to think, not to concentrate on anything besides her, just holding on, not moving...not doing anything, wishing for one, two; as much time for this moment that the heavens were willing to give.

So it came as quite a surprise to Ikari Shinji, and perhaps to Misato Katsuragi herself as well, when she pressed herself closer to him, taking in for one second her the startled-doe expression she found so endearing, the backlight of the storm limming his face, then her mouth finding his, and then letting doubts, fears, the right and wrong of the act all fade away.

The storm raged, lightning forked across the sky, and the wind howled as they kissed.

Then blood was spilling into his mouth from her open one.

He stared at her, too shocked for words. She was dying - she was really dying. And so he leaned into the kiss with even more force, feeling her warm lips pressing against his as she wrapped herself around him almost savagely. He found himself thinking of Asuka and Rei - now both dead or dying...the red-haired girl's dry, sweet mouth, the clone's pristine white flesh; but now there was only Misato, his Misato-san, and he was kissing her as she died in his arms. Slowly, tenderly, she brought her head up ever so slightly to look him in the eye...

And he shut his so he could be away from the question, to concentrate on her, the scent of her hair mixing with that of death, the bitter taste of blood and the faint stench of gunpowder around him. He was running away - he knew it, but she was next to him, and somehow everything he had always wanted to say, everything that he had ever thought about her combined with what he had wanted to do fused into the kiss, this first and final kiss that he was sharing with her.

No, not the first. The second. The first had been on that night ago - seeming so very long ago now - on that night after the phone call, when the storm - or something else, he had never been sure and didn't want to know, didn't care - had pushed them into each other's arms.

Then she gasped in pain, he smelt the fresh, coppery scent of blood and the world collapsed around him. Her arms went limp, and suddenly he was fighting to keep Misato-san, his beloved Misato-san upright even his knees felt because he knew she would die and then the fear would come back, about Asuka, already dead and Rei who was too and his father who somehow started all this and the fear...that everything was wrong and it was all, like the body in his arms, going to come crashing down.

"Shinji-kun...we'll continue this another time." Her last words, said with a smile on her face. She had crumpled to the floor, the blood leaking out even more now, staining completely her jacket and pooling on the elevator floor. He sank to his knees beside her, still in a half-embrace as he struggled to support her and her eyes closed.

The hand that reached out to caress his face, trace a line from his nose down to the chin was strangely warm, but he didn't care, he just concentrating on memorizing every detail of her face, trying to make the blood on her face go away in his mind so that the picture would be perfect. The stench was overpowering now, seeming to fill the entire space between them...but, for one moment, he thought he smelt rain. With a final movement, she slumped towards him and he held her tight.

Seconds stretched agonizingly to minutes as the elevator hurtled downwards towards the EVA cage, and the fear returned with the realization that she was gone.

Then the tears began, streaked with her blood.

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